Page 61 of Bad Influence
Then I saw something blossom in Jimi’s face. Genuine affection. I felt it too.
‘You’re the stylist. What do you think of it? Wait a minute—’
He gently brushed a piece of dirt I didn’t know was there off my lip.
There was a moment when we were standing there, looking at each other.
‘Honestly? I hate it.’
We both giggled.
‘I could tell. You can’t hide anything, you know, Amber.’
‘What do you mean?’
He shook his head and chuckled to himself. ‘I mean I could tell you hated it from the minute you saw it. I think you were unsure about me too.’
‘Really? Not at all!’ I said, embarrassed.
‘You think I’ve got something to prove. What’s that phrase – don’t judge a book by its cover?’
‘Or a man by his puffa?’
We both cracked up. When he laughed, his whole face lit up, turning into even more perfection than before.
I sensed Jimi had something else to say, but whatever it was, he resisted.
A part of me wanted his hand to stay there, on my lip. The human contact felt nice.
‘You’re cheeky too,’ he said.
‘Takes one …’
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You go in first. I’ll wait a bit.’ He looked at me with smiling eyes.
It did feel as though being out here together, we had something to hide.
I looked at him, weighing him up. Thinking about what Blair had said, about him being a playboy. As I turned and pushed open the back door to the house, I squeezed my eyes shut.
This is fine. Absolutely fine.
Shit, I fancy him.
An hour later, disappointed to find none of the usual bowls of salted peanuts, tortilla chips, or hummus found at the house parties I usually frequented, I wandered into the kitchen on the hunt for sustenance. I was beginning to miss hummus almost as much as Rob by this point, and I probably would have done something regrettable with Jimi in exchange for some Popchips.
On the kitchen island was a tray of individual gem lettuce leaves, like perfectly formed open shells, each filled with small cubes of watermelon and feta. A chopping board with some half-chopped chives sat next to it, indicating Coco couldn’t be far away. I looked over my shoulder before swiping one of the canapés.
‘Saw that,’ snapped a voice, coming from the other side of the island. I peered around the corner and saw Coco sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back to the wall.
‘Blatant daylight robbery,’ she said, looking up at me glumly.
‘Nighttime actually,’ I replied, noticing that she was making no effort to stand up and join me. I noticed a wrapper beside her and something in her hand.
‘Are you okay?’
